An Italian Pizzeria

Here you go, Adriana. ” Grandpa handed me an apron and a cap. They looked silly with red, white, and green stripes. I gulped. Did I really have to wear them? What if someone from school saw me? I didn’t want to hurt Grandpa’s feelings. He had spent the past year getting his pizzeria ready for business.

Years ago he had been a pizzaiolo—a pizza maker—in Italy. Now he was finally going to make authentic Italian pizza here in America. His dream was coming true. But all I saw was a fashion nightmare. " Pass out free slices of pizza Margherita to everyone who walks by, ” Grandpa instructed. " And be sure to tell them the story. ”

I grabbed a tray and started passing out pizza slices to people from a table set up outside. Then I saw them: Rachel and Clara—the most popular girls at my school. I pulled down my cap to hide my face. But it was too late. " Hey, you’re Adriana, from school, right?” Rachel said.

" I didn’t know there was a new pizza place in town. ” Clara was looking around. “ Don’t you have pepperoni or Hawaiian pizza?” " Oh! Hi! ” I blurted out. I lifted my cap and started talking—much too fast. " Yes, my grandpa owns this place. Today’s our grand opening. We don’t serve American-style pizza, like pepperoni or Hawaiian.

We only have pizza like they do in Italy. My grandpa wants it to be authentic. ” " Awesome, ” Rachel said. “ Can we try some?” " Sure. ” I tried to act cool. I put two slices on plates and gave them to the girls. " Mmm. Delicious! ” Clara said. Rachel nodded. “ Much better than pepperoni pizza! What is this called?”

" It’s called pizza Margherita. It was named after Queen Margherita. Back in 1889 in Italy, pizza was eaten mostly by workers who needed a quick lunch. But the queen was tired of fancy food. So she asked a pizza maker to make some pizzas. He made one with tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, and basil—the colors of the Italian flag!